Amara – POV
The ride to my apartment was quiet-but not uncomfortable.
Damian drove with one hand on the steering wheel, the other resting lazily on the gear. Every now and then, his eyes would flick over to me, and our gazes would meet for a heartbeat before I quickly looked away. Neither of us said much, but the silence was... soft. It wasn't the awkward kind. It was the kind that held meaning. The kind that lingers between two people who've crossed a line and aren't sure what's waiting on the other side.
When he pulled up in front of my building, he didn't immediately reach for the door or turn off the engine.
He looked at me, fully this time.
"You okay?"
I nodded, though my thoughts were anything but calm. "Yeah. Just... processing."
He leaned slightly toward me, voice low. "I meant what I said earlier, Amara. You matter to me."
I bit my bottom lip, heart racing again. "I know."
"Good," he said. "I don't expect you to rush anything. I'll wait."
That caught me off guard. I gave him a small, surprised glance.
"Don't look at me like that," he said with a slight smile. "I can be patient. Sometimes."
I laughed quietly, shaking my head. "That'll be a first."
He chuckled and opened the car door for me, walking me to the front of the building. The warm evening breeze brushed over us, making the air feel charged somehow. When we reached the steps, I turned to him.
"Thank you... for everything today."
His eyes were on me again. Unblinking. Honest. "You don't have to thank me for wanting to see you."
A pause. Then...
"Goodnight, Amara."
I opened my mouth to say something else-but nothing came. So I nodded again and turned to climb the stairs.
I didn't realize I was still holding my breath until I closed the door behind me and leaned against it, exhaling deeply.
My apartment was dim, calm, and quiet. I slipped off my shoes and dropped my bag gently on the couch before heading to the kitchen for a glass of water. My fingers were still tingling from where his hand had touched mine. My lips... they still remembered his kiss.
I stood in front of the mirror in my bedroom, staring at myself.
What just happened?
Everything about Damian had once scared me-his control, his dominance, the way he made me feel vulnerable and exposed. But tonight, he had been different. Softer. Patient. He hadn't pushed. He hadn't tried to use charm or power. He simply stood by me.
And that made it scarier than anything else.
Because now, it wasn't just attraction. It wasn't just confusion or fantasy.
It was real.
I lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling, heart pounding in my chest. Sleep didn't come easily. My thoughts wandered endlessly-back to the meeting, the way he looked at me the entire time, the way he waited for me to meet his gaze... then that kiss.
I touched my lips again.
It felt like the start of something.
Something I couldn't name yet.
And maybe... something I didn't want to end.
Serena's POV
I didn't come here to spy.
That's what I told myself as I sat in the back of the black SUV, tinted windows shielding me from the world-and more importantly, from him.
Damian.
I hadn't seen him this relaxed in years. He stood near the sidewalk, one hand shoved in his pocket, the other gesturing as he talked to her. His body leaned slightly forward, his smile subtle but real.
Her.
Amara Rivera.
There was something disturbingly ordinary about her. No bold lipstick, no flashy heels, no signature scent of power. And yet... Damian looked at her like she was the only one in the world who mattered.
He used to look at me like that-before ambition swallowed him whole. Before I became a name he avoided at business events. Before we became a closed chapter.
My gaze narrowed as Amara laughed at something he said. She swatted his arm lightly, and he let her. He let her. The Damian I knew would have flinched. Cold. Controlled. Always aware of boundaries.
But with her?
There were no boundaries. No tension. No walls.
Just... warmth.
I watched as she took a step back toward the building, brushing a curl from her cheek. He didn't stop her. He didn't follow her inside. He just stood there-watching her like a man who didn't want the moment to end.
I nearly scoffed.
"Enjoy it while it lasts," I muttered under my breath, my eyes narrowing. "You don't know him like I do."
Amara disappeared inside. Damian lingered for a second longer, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips before he finally turned and walked toward his car.
He didn't see me.
But that was fine.
He would.
Soon.
I opened my phone and stared at the image I'd taken just moments ago. Him standing so close to her. His expression soft, almost... tamed.
Damian Hale-tamed by a secretary.
How poetic.
This wasn't jealousy. Not entirely.
It was about control. Image. Legacy.
And Damian was slipping.
Which meant it was time for me to remind him exactly who he used to be-
And who I still am.
Damian's POV
The drive back felt quieter than usual. The city lights blurred past the windshield, but I barely noticed them. My hand rested on the steering wheel, steady, but my thoughts were anything but.
I could still see her face in my mind-Amara. The way she smiled just before stepping into her apartment. The way her eyes softened when she looked at me, even after all the push and pull between us. There was something disarming about her. Something real.
I never thought I'd fall this deep again. But here I was.
I love her.
Not the convenient kind of love. Not the polished, picture-perfect romance people show off at events. This was different. Raw. Unexpected. Honest.
She challenged me. She didn't just nod and agree like most people did. She didn't try to manipulate her way into my world. She was simply... herself. Strong, graceful, stubborn, emotional, brilliant-and utterly unaware of just how much space she now occupied in my heart.
I pulled the car over near the lake. I needed air. Space. Stillness.
As I leaned back against the seat, a shadow from the past crept in. Serena.
She used to sit in this same passenger seat. Wearing her designer shades, talking about her plans to "reshape the world of fashion." Back then, I admired her ambition-her confidence. I thought that was love too.
And maybe it was, for a time.
But loving Serena had felt like being in competition-with her, with myself, with the world. It was exhausting.
She wanted the spotlight. The fame. The image.
And when I couldn't give her what she wanted fast enough, she started taking from others. Using people. Playing games I refused to be part of.
There were moments I still remember fondly, yes. But most of them are buried beneath the mess she left behind. She didn't care who she hurt. Not even me.
I loved her then... but she wasn't a good person.
And she definitely didn't love me the way I needed to be loved.
But Amara?
She didn't ask for my heart. She didn't chase me.
Yet somehow, she has all of me.
And that scares the hell out of me.
Because when you finally have something real-something fragile-you realize how much you stand to lose.
I ran a hand through my hair, the cool breeze blowing through the window.
I'm not going to lose her.
Not to her doubts.
Not to Serena.
Not to my own mistakes.
She might not know the full truth yet, about how deep this runs for me. But she will. I'll make sure of it.
Starting tomorrow.